


Beauty of a Secret

by rebelwriter6561



Series: Under the Mask [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Anal Sex, Blood, Fake AH Crew, First Meetings, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Rescue, Threats of Violence, depictions of injuries, shit gets fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelwriter6561/pseuds/rebelwriter6561
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Breaking In and Shaping Up. Ryan is out of the criminal life, but by dating Ray, he keeps getting drawn back in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Not to Introduce Your Boyfriend to Your Friends

_The tension in the penthouse when Ray walked in was practically suffocating. Geoff, Lindsay, and Jack were hunched over the table, looking like they hadn’t slept at all. Michael had his arm hooked into a sling, Mica’s eyes were puffy from crying, Jeremy looked as though he'd paced a groove into the floor, and Gavin had crusted blood and bruises on his face. Ray felt terrible. He had split from the fight, for a good reason, but still...he should have been there for them._

_They all stared at Ray like they never thought they’d see him again. Jack was up first, grabbing Ray into a suffocating hug that squeezed the air from his lungs. “Oh thank god,” she choked out. “We thought you were dead, or caught...oh god we were so worried.” Ray smiled, even though he felt worse for making them worry. At least they cared._

_“Where the fuck were you?” Geoff’s snarl caused Jack to release Ray and step away, and made Michael and Gavin sink back into their chairs, and Mica and Jeremy step back. Geoff’s face was red, and so were his eyes, and he was glaring at Ray something fierce. Lindsay was glaring too, looking like she was going to sock him. If Ray hadn’t just been face-to-face with Los Santo’s Most Dangerous he’d be pretty damn scared. But also, it was his crew. It was worry, not anger._

_“You fucking left, in the middle of that fucking mess! We didn’t know what the fuck was happening, what the hell were you-” Geoff stopped talking, mouth dropping open when Ray held up the Vagabond’s ruined mask. Ryan had provided the blood, from_ somewhere _and Ray had to admit it looked pretty good. He even started a little campfire in his backyard, to give Ray’s hoodie an authentic smoky smell from burning a body. Motherfucker was thorough about faking his death._

_“I went after the Vagabond.” he told the silent shocked crew. “He was gonna escape but I hunted him down and…” Ray threw the mask onto the table, in front of Lindsay. “I got him.”_

_The entire crew was frozen, staring at the proof. Ray shrugged. “So, yeah, I need a shower. And a nap. So…” Ray turned and walked to his room, hoping no one would follow him or ask questions until he had a shower. He wasn't actually tired, but the Vagabond - Ryan - pointed out that if he really was up all night dealing with a dead body, he should be tired._

_He also needed time to finish up his bullshit story. Ryan had coached him about what to say and how to act, but there were some things he was on his own for._

_Ray stripped in his private bathroom and groaned at the sight of the dark red hickies covering his neck. He had no fucking clue how to hide those. Bastard._

~*~

“I gotta tell you...killing you was the worst thing that could've happened to me.”

Face-down in the pillows, Ryan grunted rather than answer, and Ray smirked. He was the reason Ryan was wiped out, and he was damn proud of it. He was the god damn handjob master.

“Seriously, dude, I've got this reputation now, everyone thinks I'm hot shit-”

“Isn't that a good thing?” Ryan finally rolled over to look at him. Ray had to take a moment, because Ryan looked _good_ with a fucked-out look and a lazy grin. God damn. “I thought you were hot shit already.”

“Yeah, but now everyone thinks I've got some superpower aiming skills or something.” Ray snorted. Everyone in the city was giving the Fake AH Crew a wide berth now, because of Ray managing to do the “impossible”. It was kinda funny, but at the same time terrifying, because now they would gun for him. “You know what some of the rumors are?”

“Yeah, I think I picked up a few.” Ryan rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. “I think my favorite is that the Vagabond was some sort of demon, and you vanished him to hell or some shit.”

“Be honest-” Ray was saying that a lot lately- “how many of those rumors did you start?” Ryan just gave him a shit eating grin, so Ray laughed and dropped it. He was finding out quickly that Ryan - actual Ryan, not Vagabond Ryan - was full of more bullshit than even Ray. It seemed like he never had a straight answer for anything if he didn't have to.

But that was okay, because it was actually pretty funny, and Ray always called him out on it. He'd already heard three different reasons for how Ryan got into the criminal business, and had no idea which was true. He was pretty sure that's just how Ryan got his kicks. And kept private stuff private, as he should.

They'd jumped headfirst into this sex mess, so Ray didn't blame him for taking time to open up. It made sense - there was trust and there was _trust_ and Ray was still earning the second one. He wasn't totally ready to trust Ryan with his personal life either - his own life, yeah, but not his friend's. 

What they had was just between them, as it should be for now. Ray's job, and Ryan's former life, rarely came up. Ryan let Ray hang out with him, and they shared some excellent orgasms, so it was all good.

Ryan reached over and pulled Ray against his side. “Your crew is still good, right?” Ray nodded, feeling his stubble rub against Ryan's side.

“Yeah, they're cool, they like giving me shit about being super-infamous now, but it's been normal.” Normal enough for a crew of criminals, that is. “They haven't asked about me sneaking off to spend time with you, so that's good.”

That was actually a half truth - he was pretty sure everyone knew he was sneaking out to get laid, because they all kept looking at him with knowing grins, but no one pushed it. Thank god. He didn't ever want to get a sex talk from Lindsay.

“Good.” Ryan sighed. “I can't believe I'm getting away with this. Like, I keep expecting something to fuck up, because there's no way this should have worked. But it hasn't. I'm not used to having nice things.”

“Fucking get used to it.” Ray muttered and pushed himself up to kiss Ryan. His - boyfriend? partner? fuckbuddy? - kissed back, as slow and perfect as the first. He was so good, so good to Ray and so good at kissing. He deserved nice things. Ray wanted to give him nice things, like blow jobs and reassurances that no one would come after him, and promises that this whole arrangement wouldn't fall apart.

But people like them don't make make promises like that, and Ryan was still saving that blow job for a date. So Ray kissed him back, and silently swore to himself that he would fuck up anyone who tried to mess with what they had.

~*~

“So seriously, where you keep sneaking off to?”

“Fuck off Gavin.” Ray snapped back. He was checking his clips for the thousandth time, fingers running over each shell. He loaded and unloaded his sniper and the little handgun, over and over, making sure they wouldn't catch or fail at the wrong moment. Shit happens, but it doesn't always have to.

“Stay out of it, Gav.” Mica ran a finger around her eyes, wiping away the tiniest flaw in her perfect makeup. “It's Ray's business, so chill.” She aimed a wink at Ray over her compact. “If he doesn't want to tell us about the hickies he doesn't have to.”

“Shut up Mica.” Ray grumbled. Jack had given him a makeup lesson for covering up Ryan's love bites, but only after he'd used her shade of foundation and didn't blend it. That kinda let the secret out to everyone. But like he told Ryan, they were cool with it.

Gavin was the only one who wouldn't shut up about Ray's private life, because he was _Gavin_. If it was anyone else Ray would gut them, but, again, it was Gavin. His best friend besides Michael. Member of the OG Lads. He wanted to punch his stupid face a lot, but they were still bros.

“Are we gonna meet them?” Gavin was already wearing those special glasses of his, and they made his grin seem brighter. Ray groaned.

“Um, no, cause we're criminals, remember?” Not that Ryan cared, obviously, but it was a good excuse. “Just drop it, okay?”

“But Ray-” Gavin wasn't dropping it “-what if you're arrested, or get shot, or-” 

“Guard.” Mica interrupted, looking out the driver’s window. Ray and Gavin looked too, and saw the baby-faced beat cop scratching his ass next to the building he was guarding. The building that they wanted inside of.

“Knock him dead.” Gavin whispered as Mica climbed out, smoothing her skirt. She started toward the guard, stumbling a bit and looking just like a party girl who'd had a few too many. Ray and Gavin slipped out of the car and crouched behind it. There was a slurred conversation, a sharp _crack_ , and Mica whispered “All clear.”

Gavin and Ray broke cover and zipped over to the door. Gavin punched in the stolen code and slipped in. Ray followed after making sure Mica had the half-ass guard's gun. Gavin quickly led the way to the basement, scanning the wires that snaked overhead. Ray didn't follow him down the short shallow steps. Instead he crouched at the top, keeping watch while Gavin messed around doing whatever he needed to manually override the cameras.

“Make it fast guys,” Mica urged over the comms. 

“Just gimme ten secs,” Gavin whispered. Ray's knee bounced, unable to keep still. He hated quick heists like these, rather than an honest fight. Less people, more potential for things to go wrong.

“Shit. Shit! Get out! Out, out, now!” Ray jumped at Mica’s urgent shriek. He turned to yell at Gavin but the hacker was already jumping up the stairs. They heard gunfire as raced to the door, but when they reached it it suddenly opened to reveal an armored police officer.

Ray had his gun up and a bullet in the guy's head without thinking. He and Gavin shoved past him to the firefight outside. Mica was crouched behind their car, and when she spotted them she tossed a grenade towards the cops guarding the alley, and dived towards them. She'd already ditched her heels to run faster.

“Come on!” Ray yelled over the bang. He lead them through the hallways, to the back staircase. In his mind's eye he say the layout from the blueprints they stole, knew there was another way out the cops couldn't get to. It was six stories up, but it'd work.

“Lindsay's not answering her phone, guys.” Mica warned them as they sped up the staircase. Gavin swore. Ray knew what that meant - if Lindsey wasn't answering, then something was _wrong_

“Then we're on our own.” Ray panted. He had a stitch in his side and it was hard to breathe, but they had to keep moving. The cops were probably already in the building. They reached the right level and dashed to the knee-high window they needed. The next building over was a stomach-dropping ways away, but it was manageable. Barely. Ray smashed the window with the butt off his gun, and covered the shattered ledge with his hoodie. “I'll go first, then Mica, and you.” he nodded at Gavin. They both nodded agreement.

Ray squeezed out the window, angling to keep his rifle from getting stuck. He sucked a couple deep breaths down before he laughed himself off the ledge and landed perfectly on the roof, rolling to his feet quickly and setting down his gun. “Let's go!” He called up quietly.

Mica leaped next, falling heart-stoppingly fast to the roof. She hissed as she got to her feet, and Ray worried that she wouldn't make the trip a few blocks to their spare car without shoes. It wouldn't be the first time someone got piggybacked away from a job.

“Gaawk!” Ray jerked his head up towards Gavin's yell and saw him half-out of the window, struggling with someone behind him.

“Gav!” Ray screamed and pulled out his little gun to help (how? And without hitting Gavin?), but before he could get a shot his friend messily launched himself out the window. Ray froze in fear as he watched the Brit fall to their roof.

Gavin landed heavily on his side, crying out in pain. His left leg was dark with blood. Ray grabbed him and hauled him up as bullets began raining down on them.

Struggling, Ray pulled Gavin across the roof and down the fire escape. When they hit the ground, Ray supported his friend while Mica took his shoes for her own, before the all stumbled down the alleyways towards their backup car.

Somehow, they got there, even going slow and Gavin gasping in pain. They had to stop and hide several times, but miraculously avoided cops. Ray drove them away at a nice “I'm just a civilian, officer, don't mind me” pace while Mica tried to patch up Gavin.

“Shit shit shit!” Ray muttered as he drove. He called Geoff, then Michael - no answer. If Lindsay or Geoff was ever compromised the standard rule was to hide and regroup later. But this had all the makings of a coordinated attack, so he had no way of knowing what safehouses were still safe. He had his own, but he hadn't been there in months - it was probably compromised too.

“Ray?” Mica piped up from the backseat. “Gav needs help. This is bad.” Ray glanced over his shoulder, at Gavin who was leaking blood from several cuts on his leg. He looked really pale, and when he met Ray’s eye he could tell his friend was scared. Ray groaned, because he couldn't risk a hospital or even their own nurses. 

There was only one option he could trust. Sort of.

Ray yanked his cell phone out again - he really shouldn't have brought it in the first place, but hey good thing he did - and tapped the phone icon. As it dialed Ryan's number, he hoped silently that his friend would be cool with this. This was pushing it - they'd never talked about if this was okay, if he could trust Ryan like this. If he could trust his friends to not fuck it up.

“Yeah?” Ryan's voice was reassuring on the other end when he answered. He didn't sound like he was going to tell Ray to go fuck himself.

“Hey-can-I-bring-a-couple-friends-over?” Ray blurted out in a rush. He was worried sick, barely able to get the words out. Ryan was smart, he could figure it out. He would know Ray would never ask this unless things were _really_ fucked up.

It was silent on the other end, and Ray mentally kicked himself. It was too much, too stupid to think-

“Get over here. Don't be followed.” The line went dead. Feeling better for the first time that night, Ray turned the car towards Ryan's house. Getting there wouldn't fix everything, but it was a good place to start.

“Uh, Ray? Where are we going?” Mica asked hesitantly, as they entered the residential neighborhoods. Ray glanced behind him, to check for tails, but only saw Mica and Gavin's scared faces.

“I, uh...can’t tell you.” Ray said regrettably. “In fact, um, can you guys not pay attention to where we’re going? It's kinda...secret.”

“We goin to your secret hideout?” Gavin asked weakly. Ray grimaced at how bad his friend sounded.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he replied. Ryan's house appeared, familiar and safe. As Ray pulled up to the driveway the garage door opened expectantly. Ray pulled in, seeing Ryan at the door control, gun loose at his side, looking casual but threatening. It was a good look for him. Ray gave him a nervous-but-reassuring thumbs up, and Ryan nodded and closed the garage door after them.

“Dude, I'm so sorry about this.” Ray blabbed as he got out of the car. Ryan stepped down to meet him, shoving the gun away and grabbing Ray’s face to examine him for injuries. He was surprisingly gentle, but his face was a lot more concerned than Ray would have thought.

“Don't be stupid,” Ryan whispered when he pulled Ray close into a hug. “You're safe, you're here, that's what matters.” Ray swallowed, throat suddenly tight. Ryan was worried about him. He wasn't used to someone who wasn't crew giving a shit. It was really nice.

Ryan pulled back to approach the car. “So what happened? I didn't hear a lot over the police scanner.” He opened the back door, to see Mica and Gavin's surprised faces and the mess in the car’s backseat. “Yikes.” he commented dryly at the sight of Gavin's leg.

“We got ambushed, it was all fucked up.” Ray explained, feeling shaky as adrenaline left him. And relieved. Ryan was okay with this. They were safe. Unless Ryan decided to go full Vagabond in them, but that didn't seem likely.

“Yeah, that happens,” Ryan nodded grimly and reached in to hoist Gavin into his arms with a squawk.

“God, someone needs to feed you guys better, you don't weigh anything.” Ryan grumbled as he carried Gavin into the house. Ray and Mica followed, Ray pausing to set the alarm as he kicked off his shoes.

“Ray, what the hell? Who is this guy?” Mica whispered, grabbing at Ray's arm. Ray grabbed her back, gently leading her to bathroom after Gavin and Ryan. She was limping badly, and Ray knew her feet were probably fucked in Gavin's shoes.

“Uh, he's my buddy Ryan. Uh…”

“Ray,” Mica said warningly.

“Look, I can't really tell you, Mica. I trust him, though. He's -”

“Wait a minute.” Mica came to a stop in the doorway of the bathroom. Ryan already had Gavin in the tub and the massive first aid kit open. Ray was about to ask what was wrong when Mica jabbed her finger towards Ryan accusingly. “Is he the hickey guy?!”

“Am I the _what_?” Ryan asked, baffled, as Gavin burst out laughing. Ray groaned. Fuck his life.

“You're the guy who keeps giving Ray hickeys! Aren't you?” Mica demanded.

“Mica, please, shut up.” Ray moaned, pushing her to the cabinet. She jumped up to sit on the counter, grinning madly at Ryan, who looked way too amused about the situation.

“I mean, I assume I'm the one who did, as far as I know. Is there someone else doing that? I thought we were exclusive babe.” He aimed a flirty wink at Ray. 

Ray wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “Please, just kill me, it'd be kinder,” he moaned at Ryan's uproarious laugh. Bastard. He was enjoying Ray's misery. He knew the crew was going to give him so much shit for this.

“You brought us to your boyfriend's house, X-Ray?” Gavin was still laughing, even as Ryan moved his leg around. “What were you thinking, you loon?”

“I was thinking you were gonna bleed out in our shitty car.” Ray muttered darkly as he pulled off Mica’s borrowed shoes. Her feet looked pretty banged up, bleeding from several scrapes on the pad and toes.

“It's okay. I figured I would probably meet you guys at some point.” Ryan sounded perfectly confident as he cut Gavin's pant leg away. “I just didn't expect Ray to drag Ramsey's Golden Boy into my house like this.”

Mica’s head jerked up, and Gavin gave Ryan an alarmed look. “You know who I am?” he asked carefully.

“Well, yeah, this is Los Santos, of course I know who you guys are.” Ryan made vague grabby motions at Ray, who gave him the rubbing alcohol. “It's cool, I'm not gonna fucking call the cops. That'd be rude.”

Ray said nothing, focusing on putting band-aids on Mica’s toes. Ryan knew what he was doing, he probably had this lie prepared, so Ray wasn't about to say something to fuck it up. He was just Ray’s civilian boyfriend, not the ex-Vagabond. 

“So did you know who Ray was when you hooked up?” Gavin asked, then whimpered when Ryan started cleaning the cuts on his leg. They looked bad. Ray hoped Ryan knew what he was doing.

“I put two and two together and figured it out. Like I said, It's cool. As long as Ray doesn't bring any trouble home we’re good.”

“Seriously?” Mica looked skeptical and concerned. “You know who Ray is, but you don't want any trouble? You do know if people find out about this, they'll probably try to kill you, right?”

“Mica, chill.” Ray begged. They didn't know what Ryan and Ray knew, so this was actually more annoying than anything. If Ryan actually _was_ a straight-up civilian Ray wouldn't have gotten in a relationship with him for the exact reasons Mica was bringing up.

Mica wasn't done. “No, seriously, what if some crew trails Ray here? Or what if someone with connections to the Vagabond comes looking for him?” Ray saw Ryan bite his lip to keep from laughing at that. “I get that you guys are totally banging, and that's cool, but this is a seriously dangerous life. You could get hurt.”

“I know that.” Ryan said quietly. “I said I'd _like_ if nothing bad would happen, but I have no illusions that nothing will. And I'm okay with that.” Ryan looked at Mica and back to Gavin. “Take my word on this, I've got things under control. You can tell your boss nothing's gonna happen to Ray because of me.”

“But-” Gavin broke off with a whimper when Ryan poked at one of his wounds with some tweezers.

“What the hell happened to you? You're a mess.” Ryan started pulling out some sterile needles, and Ray looked away, remembering when Ryan stitched him up after getting stabbed. That had sucked.

“Uh, I was jumping out a window but a cop grabbed me. And I landed on the glass.”

“You jumped out a window.” Ryan repeated dryly. “To escape cops. Of course.” He rubbed at his eyes and pulled on some latex gloves. “Clearly Ray's not the only one in your crew who does dangerous stupid shit.”

“Dude, our whole crew does dangerous stupid shit.” Ray replied. “It's a requirement.”

“It's amazing your turnover rate isn't higher. Isn't there someone responsible in your crew?”

“Uh, yeah, me!” Mica said proudly. Gavin and Ray laughed. She was full of shit - Mica did just as much stupid shit as the rest of the Lads.

“Oh I bet you are.” Ryan's look and tone said he clearly didn't believe it for a second either.

Something that sounded like a rusty door squeaked nearby, and everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to Edgar, who had joined them in the bathroom. The cat soaked up their gazes with obvious pleasure.

“Oh, yeah, I bet you want to be fed.” Ryan addressed his pet. “Ray, can you?”

“Yeah, got it.” Ray grabbed Edgar off the floor and carried him to the kitchen, purring up a storm. Mica followed gingerly, rubbing at Edgar's head.

“How the hell did you meet this guy?” Mica wondered when she took Edgar from Ray, cuddling him close while Ray got the kibble. 

“Eh, it's a long story. Don't worry about it.” Ray really didn't want to explain that nonsense, and he didn't have an excuse off the top of his head. It was too ridiculous as it was.

“Well, I can tell why you're together. You're a lot alike, did you notice? You have the same sense of humor, and laid-back-ness.”

 _And we're super criminals,_ Ray thought to himself. He couldn't believe they were getting away with the deception so well. But they'd have to come up with a better meet-cute if the rest of the crew was going to find out, which was absolutely going to happen. Gavin wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut.

They went back to the bathroom, where Ryan was stitching up Gavin with brutal efficiency. Gavin was shakily relaying the time Ray jumped off a roof using a table umbrella shaped like a hamburger. Ryan's face was a mix of concerned and amused.

As Ryan finished up stitching Gavin (Mica had followed Gavin's story with the time the Brit was pushed off Mount Chiliad in a golf cart, which had been a lot of fun), Ray's phone suddenly blasted _Boss Ass Bitch_. Ray, Mica, and Gavin all jumped, and Ray fumbled his phone out of his pocket.

The call was from Lindsay's phone, but was it Lindsey on the other end, or the cops, or worse? Ray decided to risk it and answered.

“What's your gun’s name?” he asked right off the bat. The whole crew had a question only they could answer, that they could give if everything was okay and they weren't being threatened.

“Crescent Rose.” Lindsay - definitely Lindsey - answered. “What happens when you die?”

“I become Ghost Ray.” Ray hated his security question, and hated it even more when Ryan started laughing at him. Asshole. “Is everyone all right?”

“Surprisingly, yeah, as long as you have Gav and Mica with you.”

“Yeah, they're here. Gavin got messed up but he'll live.”

“Thank god. It was almost really bad though.” Lindsay sighed, and so did Ray. It was good that everyone was safe, but situations like that, what _almost_ happened, wasn't fun, and that was an understatement. “Jeremy's laying low somewhere with Geoff, Jack and Michael are with me. Where are you guys?”

“Uuuuuuhhhhh…” Ray looked at Ryan, with his shit-eating grin, and wondered what to say.

“Ray?” Lindsay picked up on his hesitation _fast_. “Where are you?”

“Look, it's safe, that-”

“We're at his boyfriend's house!” Gavin yelled from behind them. Ray's stomach sized even when Ryan and Mica started laughing. At least Ryan hadn't taken a scalpel and sliced Gavin for exposing him.

“Wait, what?” Lindsay asked with a laugh. Ray closed his eyes and banged his head against the wall. Coming here was a bad idea.

“Ray, just put it on speaker.” Ryan nodded when Ray gave him a ‘are you sure’ look. “That's your boss, right? Lemmie talk to him.”

“It's not Boss-boss, this is our lady-boss.” Mica told him. She really shouldn't have, since Lindsay being boss wasn't news they wanted out, but Mica must have thought Ryan was cool.

“You brought our guys to your boyfriend's house? Are you crazy?” Lindsey's voice echoed in the bathroom when Ray put her on speaker.

“I was out of options,” Ray groused while Mica and Gavin started talking over him - Gavin was trying to say what happened, while Mica was talking about Ryan's cat. Ryan, meanwhile packed up the first aid kit with that stupid grin.

Ray thrust the phone at Mica and intercepted Ryan at the counter. “Dude, I'm so sorry, I didn't want them to tell her but they did, I'll take them and leave, I won't mess with you again, I'll-”

“Ray, stop. I told you, I'm fine with this.” Ryan leaned down to kiss him, briefly. “You're always assuming the worst about how I'll react, but you don't have to. I'm cool with this. As long as you guys don't drag me into any trouble.” Ryan leaned forward and spoke into Ray's ear. “You know what'll happen then.” He said in his Vagabond voice. Ray shivered.

“Ryan, Lindsay wants to talk to you.” Mica nudged Ray to get their attention.

“Oh, yeah, hi there.” Ryan was back to his Suburban Dad guise in a second. It was like Gavin becoming the Golden Boy to negotiate with other crews for Geoff. Ray had to learn how to do that.

“Hey, so, you're good with my guys crashing there, right?” Lindsay asked. “Cause the heat’s still on, and we gotta figure out where this shit-show started, but if you want my guys to leave…”

“No, it's fine. Totally fine.” Ryan assured her. He took Ray's hand and squeezed it too, which somehow made him feel better. “I'll take care of your crew for now, it's fine. As long as this isn't a regular thing.”

“Nope, totally a one-time thing. We won't bug you after this.”

“Except Ray, right?” Mica asked with a cheeky wink. Ray flipped her off.

“Right,” Ryan agreed. 

“Okay, I'll text when we're ready to regroup. Just lay low and don't do anything stupid.” Lindsay hung up and Ray took his phone back to do the same.

“Okay,” Ryan said cheerfully. “If you’re all going to be here awhile, I'm taking advantage and get some multi-player achievements. Come on.” He led the way out of the bathroom with Ray supporting Gavin. “And pizza, gotta have pizza, I can do homemade.”

“Dude, your boyfriend is awesome.” Gavin whispered in Ray's ear. Ray had to agree, but he was still worried. He’d taken a chance coming here, and it had worked, but at the expense of exposing Ryan to the crew, and he really felt bad about that, and worried for his friends and Ryan. They'd fucked up coming here and messing with Ryan, just like Ray did the first time he broke in. 

How could Ryan still be cool with everything, if shit like this kept happening? When would he push things too far, and lose everything he cared about?

It was only a matter of time.


	2. Stellar Tips For Meeting Your Boyfriend's Parents and Making A Good Impression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My summer fling with the X-Men fandom is turning into a longer-term relationship, but I'm not done with this story. And I figured I better update this before I go on vacation.

In all honest truth, Ryan had to admit his plan of getting completely out of the life just did not work.

If he'd been willing to put in the effort - going off the grid, changing his name, burning off his fingerprints, all that and a bag of chips - he could have pulled it off. Easily. But he'd stayed in Los Santos, where the action was, and gotten involved with someone he probably shouldn't have.

He didn't regret getting together with Ray, even as he had made preparations to fake his death. Ray was fun, he was witty and cocky and had a good ass. He even put up with Ryan's bullshit. That was more than Ryan could've ever hoped for in a partner.

The few months they'd been together, even before he'd retired, were the best he'd ever had. He'd honestly forgotten what it was like to be so happy.

He knew he was lucky Ray was willing to look past the mask during their first tension-filled encounters, and see Ryan underneath. And even more willing - or stupid - to continue to seek out encounters just so they could spend time together. And it had worked out well for both of them.

Except now he was getting tangled up in Los Santos’ most notorious gang, which made laying low as an unassuming citizen rather difficult.

He'd scoped the crew put from afar, when he was the Vagabond, but never felt like reaching out to them for work. He knew their types - all in it together, if you're in you're in and if not...you were out. One big happy destructive family.

At the time, it had seemed antithetical to what he wanted. But that had changed, like many other things, when a certain dumbass stumbled into his life.

“So...Ramsey wants to meet you.”

If Ryan wasn't so used to life throwing him curveballs, he'd be surprised. Instead he took it in stride and didn't let the distraction throw him off his game. “That so?” he asked mildly.

“Yep.” On the other side of the split-screen, Ray's character sliced at a snarling alien. “In person.”

“I thought you said your boss would stay out your personal life.” Ryan groaned when his character took a nasty hit. Ray's ran over to revive him.

“Yeah, well, that was before I was a fucking idiot who dragged half the crew here.” Ray and Ryan completed their mission without saying any more, but when they reached the loading screen Ray sighed, heavily. “Dude, I fucked up, I shouldn't have brought them here, I fucked up your “retirement” or whatever.”

“Ray, I told you, don't worry about it.” Ryan knew Ray was still beating himself up over revealing him to the crew, even after his assurances. “I'm really not bothered by it, okay? It was actually pretty fun having you guys here.”

“Yeah, cause patching up idiots is so fun.” Ray mumbled. Ryan shook his head.

“It gave me something to do, instead of sitting around on my ass. Real talk: if I didn't have you and your crew barging in here, I'd be so _bored_! I need a hobby or some shit.” It was a nice boredom, not having to worry about people shooting him, but Ryan was already considering some freelance work to give himself something to do.

“But-” Ray wanted to keep going, so Ryan cut him off.

“Nope, no fucking ‘buts’, Ray.” Ryan reached over and used a highly effective hand-over-the-mouth technique to make Ray shut up. “You're acting like I'm gonna fucking murder them all, but I'm not, cause that'd be fucking rude.”

“But that's what you do!” Ray's voice sounded annoyed and muffled.

“Not anymore. Face it, if I wasn't the Vagabond you wouldn't be freaking out like this. And I'm not anymore, so you need to stop acting like I am.”

Honestly, it was intriguing that Ray was the one who was holding on to his old identity the most. Ryan supposed he had experience letting the mask go so he could pass as normal, whereas Ray had only known the Vagabond before seeing the real Ryan. And it was hard to let go of the murderous image. In light of that, Ryan removed his hand so he could kiss Ray.

“It's like a challenge, Ray,” he murmured against his lips. He pulled back more to look him in the eye. “To see if I can keep the lie going, even to other criminals. So far it's working, right? You said they bought it.”

“Yeah,” Ray admitted weakly. Ryan grinned at him.

“Okay then. If I can lie to your lady-boss then I should be able to trick Ramsey no problem.” He didn't really get the leadership dynamics of the Fakes, and he wasn't about to ask. He'd stay out of it.

“But Geoff- I mean Ramsey, fuck-” Ryan laughed at his flub. As if Ryan didn't already know. “-he's not gonna get after you because he thinks you're a threat to us. I mean, not just cause. He's gonna go full dad on you. You know, ‘break his heart and I'll break your arm’ and all that shit.” Ray slumped on the couch, frowning. “They're gonna try to chase you off if they can.”

“Well, they can fucking try. I'm not going anywhere.” Ryan reached over and offered his hand, grinning when Ray took it. 

Thankfully the next level began, so they went back to the game. Ryan still felt uneasy after that talk. They were treading too close to dangerous territory. The next level of their relationship. Because a casual sex-fueled fling was nice, but what about long term? What if something from his past came back to haunt him, or worse, Ray?

What could the future hold for an ex-criminal and a sniper? Nothing good.

~*~

It was understood by all parties that the meeting would take place in public. Ryan didn't want the Fake’s leader in his space, and Ramsey would be mad to allow Ryan into his, even without knowing his past. Even civilians were dangerous in this city. Best not to know too much.

Ryan chose the pier, because it had multiple escape routes and witnesses, plus shops and food, so it could be a date. But not _the_ date. Ryan was sticking with his promise to only fuck Ray after a proper first date.

Ray called him an asshole, and worse, and tried to manipulate him into giving in. That didn't work, but it was very enjoyable for a time.

Ray grew more and more antsy in the week up to the meeting, to the point that Ryan threatened to cancel pizza night if he didn't chill the fuck out. Ray swore up and down that he wasn't nervous about things going bad - he knew how good a liar Ryan was - but that Ramsey would embarrass him to death.

Ryan was actually looking forward to it. Part of it was because he got sick pleasure out of embarrassed Ray. It was delightful watching the normally mellow and unshakable sniper squirm, like he had under the Golden Boy's and Mad Queen's ribbing. He liked seeing that as much as he liked seeing Ray blush when he said nice things about his butt.

But he also wanted to get this over with, so Ray could chill the fuck out for a while. He had a pretty good idea about what the get-together would entail. This meeting was going to be nothing but posturing and thinly-veiled threats with Ramsey. He knew Ramsey was just looking out for his crew, and had Ray's best interests at heart. But so did Ryan.

The weekend was bright and clear, and the pier was packed with people. Ryan and Ray got there early, and enjoyed the rides and just hanging out. There was also delicious fried food, making snide jokes about the vast assortment of odd fashion choices the tourists wore, and Ray won Ryan a teddy bear at a rigged Midway shooting game. He even got to sneak a kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel.

It was strange seeing Ray out in public out of his hoodie, but Ryan was enjoying it. Even with the threat of the meet-and-greet going badly, Ray was smiling and happy. Ryan especially loved the way the sun bronzed his shoulders exposed by his tank top. 

“Oh fuck,” Ryan looked over to see Ray staring at the street, a look of dread on his face. “Beardo’s here too.

Ryan craned his head to see the unmistakable Hawaiian print shirt of Ramsey’s second-in-command. Next to her, Ramsey looked perfectly unremarkable in a t-shirt and slacks instead of his usual tux. As if they were just a vacationing couple, not the most notorious criminals in the city.

“Yeah. Don't freak out, but I think the rest of your crew's around here too.” Ryan jerked his head towards a burrito cart, where a freckled red-head had been giving him the stank eye for the last few minutes.

Ray saw him too, and swore viciously at him. “I am gonna fucking murder _everyone_. You're a fucking asshole!” he snarled at his boss when he approached.

“Aww, that's not nice.” Geoff Ramsey, leader of the one and only Fake AH Crew, gave Ray an exaggerated sad face possible from beneath his fantastic mustache before grinning the biggest cheesiest grin. “Is that how you're gonna introduce me to your boyfriend, really?”

“Fuck you.”

“To be fair, I already knew you're an asshole. I do read the news.” Ryan, or at least Average-Citizen-Ryan, wasn't about to let Ramsey's fearsome reputation stop him from snarking at him.

Ramsey eyed him up and down, taking in the casual v-neck t-shirt and jeans. “Boy, Gav wasn't kidding, you are a DILF. Why aren't you wearing khakis?”

“They're at the dry cleaners.” Ryan answered smoothly. Jack Patillo, the illustrious Beardo, hadn't said anything, just giving Ryan a hard frown he was honestly having a hard time sitting still under. She'd make a great principal someday. Or a nun.

“So!” Ramsey spoke over Ray's continued sweared mumbles. “I think you and I have a lot of things to talk about. First of all, I want you to know, we did a full background check on you-”

“What the fuck, Geoff!” Ray exploded at his boss. “You fucking said you wouldn't!”

“That was before you went and acted like an idiot. This guy knows who we are and what we do, and I don't care how “cool” with it you are-” Ramsey exaggerated air quotes at Ryan “you could be up to shit.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Ryan agreed. “You don't know me; for all you know I could be a police informant or something.”

“Actually, we were thinking Mob.” Pattillo finally spoke up. “They're sneaky enough to try something like this.”

“I told you guys, I already checked him out in the beginning.” Ray spoke angrily and grabbed Ryan's hand, which was unexpected. And really adorable. “You really think I'd jump in bed with the enemy?”

 _You kinda did,_ Ryan thought, trying to hold back a grin. This was going exactly how he expected.

“Well, no, but we wanted to check.” Ramsey did manage to look sheepish. “You're clean as a whistle, buddy, as far as we're concerned.” 

Ryan nodded. He was very proud of the fake identity he'd constructed. He even threw in a few speeding tickets to be authentic.

“So the next question is, what the hell is a nice white-collar guy like you doing messing around with Ray? You into fucking punks half your age?” Ramsey and Pattillo were still looking at him with suspicion. Ryan decided to lay on his persona harder.

“So what if am? Ray’s fun, and he's nothing like any of the other guys I know. They're all about football teams and home repairs - I like a guy that can beat me in video games.” He grinned a big dorky grin, and was pleased to see Ray cover his face and groan.

“And the fact that Ray's a wanted criminal doesn't matter to you? I find that hard to believe.” Pattillo wasn't buying it, and Ryan didn't blame her. He'd be suspicious too.

“Yeah? Honestly, it's kinda a turn-on.”

“Are you out of your god-damned mind?” Ramsey's easy tone was long gone. Now Ryan was seeing the proper leader of the Fakes. “Is this a joke to you? I don't care how cute you think Ray is, this is dangerous. You know you could get fucked up because of this. If someone figures out who you are-”

“I live in Los Santos. I could get fucked up going to get milk.” Ryan wasn't about to be intimidated, so let the suburban dad act slip a bit. “You want to talk dangerous? Let's talk about how you're perfectly okay with letting your crew dangle out of airplanes in a firefight. They could get killed, a thousand different ways. You still let them.”

“That's different-” 

Ryan didn't let Ramsey finish. “I'm a grown-ass adult and so is Ray. This might be dangerous and stupid but so is most of the shit you do. I know the risks. I'm ready if something happens. But as long as your crew keeps your traps shut nothing will.”

Ramsey looked dangerously offended. “You think _we're_ gonna blab?”

“I've heard the Golden Boy has a hard time shutting up,” Ryan countered. “You’re criminals, why should I trust you? Seriously?”

This was getting too close, he wasn't making nice like he should. He visibly relaxed next to Ray, who was giving him a look like he was trying to send him very-important thought-messages. Whatever they were, it wasn't working.

“Look, we both have no reason to trust each other, but I really have no intention of hurting Ray, in any way. I’d die before that happens. Even if we break things off, badly, I won’t go to the police or anything. I'm not an asshole.” Ryan squeezed Ray's hand reassuringly - he didn’t want to think about Ray getting hurt or them breaking up. “I don't know any criminals except you guys, and I don't want to know more. Okay? Things are fine the way they are, just keep me out of your life.”

They had no idea how much of that was pure bullshit.

Ramsey and Pattillo were quiet, obviously trying to decide what to do. Not that there was much they could do, really, if they tried to stop them.

“I suppose it’s not as dangerous with Ryan not being part of the life, but at least aware of it.” Pattillo finally spoke. “But you gotta take this shit seriously. You should get a gun, and alarm your house. Watch for people trailing you to his house, Ray.”

“I already am.” Ray sounded angry, more than Ryan had ever heard. “Jesus, it's like you guys think I'm an idiot or something. I know what I'm doing and so does Ryan.”

“Well, you can't be too careful, especially after what you did.” Ryan was pretty sure Ramsey was referencing the death of the Vagabond. “Look, we're sorry buddy, we're just looking out for you.”

“You're embarrassing me in front of Ryan, is what you're doing.” Ray snapped. Ramsey broke into his hyena-esc laugh. Even Pattillo grinned.

“You got me there, man. I also wanted to see if I could scare off this guy.” Ramsey nodded at Ryan, looking pleased. He had obviously passed the test.

“I hate you.” Ray dumped. “Tell Mogar to go fuck himself, we're going to a movie.” Ray started bodily dragging Ryan away, past his boss and second.

“Nice meeting you!” Ryan called over his shoulder. He freed his hand and wrapped his arm around Ray's shoulders, hugging him close. He couldn’t keep the mad grin off his face either. _They had bought it._

“That wasn't so bad,” he assured Ray. “No one threatened to stab each other, that's good.”

“I fucking hate them.” Ray was still steaming. “Tried to scare you off, wanted to know why we're fucking, god damn-”

“Ray, please. I don't want things to be messed up in your crew because of me. Okay? You know that could have been a lot worse.” Ryan assured him. He could think of a thousand ways that could have gone worse. Most of them ended in blood.

“I just…ugh.” Ray groaned and leaned his head on Ryan's arm, letting him guide his steps. “This is all so messed up. What the fuck were we thinking?” 

“Well, if I remember correctly, you're the one who decided to keep breaking into my house.”

“You gave me a key, you lunatic.” Ray reminded him. “Oh, we need to come up with a way we got together, that doesn't involve B and E. Ideas?”

“Well, let's see, we could have met arguing over a copy of CoD…” Their conversation flowed, as easily as it always did, as they walked to the theater. Ryan kept his arm tight around Ray, very aware that eyes watched them the whole way.

If Ramsey knew what was good for him, he'd stop spying on Ryan. He'd decided Ryan-the-Average-Citizen-Guy was okay - if he pushed any more he'd find exactly what he was afraid of. A murderous psycho with a hard-on for Ray, who wouldn’t hesitate to fuck up _everything_ to keep Ray safe.

Of all the things Ryan had lied about, he wasn't lying when he promised nothing would happen to Ray because of him. And god forbid, if anything did...he'd make them pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great first impressions all around. Well done boys.


	3. It Is Advised That You Communicate With Your Partner Prior to Intercourse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! SO SORRY!  
> HERE HAVE SOME PORN TO MAKE UP FOR THE WAIT!

A week after the awful meet-and-greet at the pier, Ray was still dealing with the crew's shit. Amazingly it hadn't fucked up his relationship with Ryan, but they were still teasing him, and on top of everything else, it was making him really pissed off. 

The city was quiet, for once - no turf battles, no drug shipments to bust up, no rival gangs raising hell with the crew. Aside from giving Ray shit, the crew itself was as chill as ever, everyone working like a well-oiled machine. Ryan was a sweetheart who gave amazing orgasms, even though he _still_ refused to let Ray blow him until he bought him dinner. Ray was pretty sure he was just fucking with him now.

Speaking of fucking, that hadn't actually happened yet either, except Ryan always got a really wicked grin on his face when Ray brought it up, so he had _something_ planned.

Nothing going wrong was making Ray antsy. Jumping out of his pants antsy. He was a step away from freaking out, and the only reason he wasn't was because _there was actually nothing wrong_. 

His life was going good for once, but he knew it wouldn't last. Sooner or later the shit would hit the fan, and the longer it took, the bigger the load.

He was trying to avoid thinking about it all by playing video games when his phone buzzed with a text.

 **Rye-Bread:** Do you own a suit?

Ray took a second to destroy Gavin's character, and replied while the Brit was howling over his loss.

 **Br0wnMan:** White shirt and pants

 **Br0wnMan:** No tux 

**Br0wnMan:** Why u ask?

Ryan took his time to reply, and Ray then had to finish the skirmish before he could read it.

 **Rye-Bread:** Fancy meals need fancy clothes. Borrow a jacket. Dinner this Friday be at my house at 7

“Holy shit!” Ray exclaimed.

“What? What's happening?” Gavin perked up, whipping his head around like he was expecting an attack.

“Ryan's taking me out to a fancy dinner,” Ray said distractedly. He remembered what Ryan had said before, about blow jobs and fancy dinners. And holy shit, was this going to be _it?_ The actual no-doubt mind-blowing sex Ryan kept teasing him with?

Hot damn, that was equal parts awesome and terrifying. Actual sex with the actual Vagabond. Yikes. And oh boy.

“Fancy dinner?” Gavin parroted. “With a suit and tie and things?”

“Yep. Looks like it.” Ray typed a quick “k” back to Ryan before throwing his phone to the side. “I don't know, man, you think I'm fancy dinner appropriate?” Gavin didn't know about the impending sex, and Ray wasn't about to fucking tell him, so he had to come up with some reason appear nervous.

“Who cares? If the place doesn't like it you could always just shoot it up. Or buy the place.” Typical Gavin, thinking of destruction and money. He picked up Ray's phone and played with it while Ray thought about who to steal a suit from. Geoff had a million but they'd all be too big…

“Hey Ray, can I… real talk, can I ask you something?” Gavin looked nervous, which was something no one expected from the Crew's Golden Boy. “How serious is Ryan about you?”

“How serious is Ryan… dude, what? Really?”

“Well, you're obviously in love with the bloke-” Rays sputtering broke him off, but he pressed on “-come on, you keep seeing him, even after that shit with Geoff, and that stuff with the Vagabond. You wouldn't still be risking all this to see him if you weren't head-over-heels for the guy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ray muttered, feeling hot under his hoodie. He didn't even want to think about that shit, much less talk to Gavin about it.

“Okay, but seriously Ray, it's obvious to us, at least. Why do you think Geoff wanted to scare him off? He knows shit like this usually ends badly, and he wanted to spare you.”

 _Shit like this doesn't usually involve the ex-Vagabond,_ Ray thought to himself. He tried to think of something to say, but his words died when he realized Gavin was right. For once. It was kinda a given that any relationship involving a criminal ‒ much less two ‒ was never going to end well.

“And that obviously didn't work,” Gavin continued. “But that's not the point. The point is, you're serious about Ryan, but is he serious about you? No offence, but he seems to be treating this kinda like a joke or something.”

“It's not a joke to him, believe me.” Ray was quiet, thinking of what he could say without blowing it. “That's just how he is. He gets a kick out of keeping secrets, keeping me secret,” he added. “Believe me, this is just as serious for him as it is for me.”

Gavin was looking at him searchingly, trying to detect bullshit. But for once there was none. “If you're sure, buddy,” he finally said. “But that means we're gonna rain hell on him if he breaks your heart.”

“God, don't even fucking start,” Ray groaned and grabbed his controller. He started another game and started shooting as soon as it loaded, leaving Gavin squealing and scrambling to keep up. Served him right.

~*~

As the weekend grew closer, Ray grew more and more nervous - which was stupid, because there was nothing to be nervous about. It wasn't like it was his virginity or something.

The thing was, he was pretty sure Ryan actually wanted to _talk_. Not their usual bullshit filled conversations where they avoided talking shop, but a real talk. Relationship talk.

Ryan always accused him of assuming the worst, but Ray was pretty sure he was right about this. Ryan had finally come to the inevitable conclusion that it wasn't worth it. It was lunacy to be in a relationship with a criminal in the first place, but dating Ray was exposing Ryan and his hidden past. There was no way they could be together and keep it a secret, even despite Ryan's efforts.

That man was committed to his guise, and an amazing liar. Ray was seeing that more and more, as he spent more time with Ryan outside the house. Casual lies, about his cat to the old lady in the pet food aisle. Bigger fibs, about an imaginary wife, to fend off a clerk hitting on him. Straight up fake stories he told Ray about his past, that were so obviously untrue Ray couldn't even get mad.

He couldn't get mad, cause it was none of his damn business. He didn't give two shits about Ryan's past, and the other man assured him it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. 

But that didn't help how he felt about their relationship. He loved it, no lie, loved hanging out with Ryan and giving him handjobs, and _holy shit_ trusting and being trusted by a certified killer. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was no way Ryan felt the same. 

Ray was still worrying about that he he arrived at Ryan's house for the date, feeling even worse in the penguin suit Mica and Geoff had whipped up for him.

Ryan, to his surprise, pulled him into the house and immediately began kissing him. Ray tried to pull away to ask what the hell was up, but Ryan wouldn't let him, so he gave in and enjoyed it. It was one of those really nice kisses that could have lasted for days if they didn't have to breathe. Ryan was really fucking good at those.

“You've been thinking like an idiot, haven't you?” Ryan asked breathlessly when he finally pulled back.

“Ngh?” Ray cleverly responded, still light-headed from the kiss.

“You've been overthinking why I'm taking you to dinner. I can tell, you've got that look on your face.”

“I don't have a look,” Ray muttered, wondering when Ryan had learned to read him so well.

“Yeah you do. What happened to the YOLO-damn-the-consequences kid who kept breaking in my house?” Ryan was smiling sweetly at him, not angry. Ray himself knew how to read Ryan, and he knew that was a not-angry smile. That was the idiot caring smile.

“I don't know. I just thought, I don't know, that you weren't happy with dealing with all my shit.”

“Ray, please. I'm a professional shit-dealer. You've got nothing on me.” Ryan sighed, rubbing Ray's shoulders comfortingly. “I know you've got your reasons for worrying, and I do too, but you don't need to worry nearly so much.” Ryan dropped his hands to grab Ray's, holding them up like they were in some historical romance drama. “This is just dinner. That's it. We're gonna eat over-expensive food and just hang out. Then I'm gonna bring you back here and fuck you until you can't walk.”

Ray laughed at the absurdity, and Ryan's matter-of-fact delivery. “Yeah, sure, that's it, no big deal,” he joked. Inwardly, he was thrilled, because that meant he guessed right, and sex was going to happen.

As usual, Ryan's assurance made him feel a lot better. Honestly, it was hard not to believe it when starting Ryan in the face, at the sincerity in his eyes. He couldn't fake that. Or maybe he could, but Ray trusted him.

Ryan drove them from the stupid suburban street he lived on to the nice side of the city. Ray gazed out the window, admiring the neighborhoods. Normally he was speeding past them while firing a gun, and didn't have the opportunity to really look around.

It turned out that the fancy dinner was at the single most expensive and upper crust establishment in the city. Even Geoff said it was too high-class for him. Ray had to fight to keep the shocked look off his face while Ryan pulled up to the valet.

“How the fuck did you get a table here?” he muttered to Ryan when they reached the doors. Ryan grinned cheekily at him, and Ray could suddenly see a hint of the Vagabond on his face.

“I can be persuasive, even without the mask,” he said with a sharp smile. Ray wondered how persuasive an nonthreatening civilian like Ryan could be, but understood when he saw the grin on the maitre d’s face. Money could do wonders in this town.

They were seated, water was poured, and after a brief glance at the menu Ryan declared he was ordering for both. Ray took a look around the room and felt a hint of disgust ripple through him. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and had that shiny rich look to them. They probably never had to fight for a meal in their lives.

“I'd love to know the reason for the look on your face.” Ryan spoke when their orders were placed and menus taken. Ray shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and judged.

“I don't know…we don't fucking belong here, Ryan. You know what these people are like-”

“Yes, and that's exactly why I'm here.” Ryan grinned his Vagabond grin. “Georgia farm boy and a hoodlum from the streets, sitting in their midst, very obviously dating. They hate us, but they can't do jack shit. I love it.”

Ray laughed at Ryan's thinking. It was exactly the same as Michael's and Lindsey's when when went “shopping” at the fancy boutiques. Any small way to stick it to the establishment. “Yeah, and there's the whole criminal thing, too.”

“Ray, don't think for a second that these people are law-abiding either. They're just less obvious about it.”

Their waiter swung by again with a wine bottle, practically demanding they try the house red. They turned him down and he unhappily slunk away.

“Have you heard of a thing called wine fraud?” Ryan asked, leaning forward comfortably in his chair. “There's a whole dark underworld in the wine business.” Ray listened, fascinated, as Ryan described the process of manipulation to make cheap wine more expensive than it was.

“How the fuck do you know all this?’ Ray asked in wonder.

Ryan's grin turned sly. “I used to be a winery manager in Napa Valley.” Ray was rolling his eyes before he was done speaking.

“I thought you used to be a backup dancer for Prince,” he fired back. Ryan's eyes lit up, actually pleased Ray caught the lie.

“That too,” he said with a shrug. “Life is a rich tapestry, I've done many things.”

“You've just got a multiple choice background,” Ray teased as their first course arrived. He grinned to himself while he stabbed at the over-glamorous appetizer. Everything was a joke to Ryan, and Ray was in on it. What an honor.

They spent the remainder of the appetizer and following courses poking fun at the restaurant's atmosphere, the food itself, and increasingly desperate waiter who kept trying to have them taste the wine. The whole thing was so pretentious, which was why Ryan had chosen it - not to impress, but to make fun.

The more Ray spent time with him, the more Ray realized Ryan would probably mesh really well with the Crew. He thought about how well Ryan would work with the crew, how he could join with making fun of Gavin and nagging the crew with Jack. He would watch Ray's back while he sniped, they they could go to bed together at the penthouse, instead of the cookie-cutter suburbs where neither really belonged.

But that would never fucking work. Ryan would have to stop being Ryan, and there was no way he would get along with the crew well enough to live with them. And the crew knew the Vagabond’s reputation as well as Ray did - they would never let him anywhere their safe haven. It was just a stupid idea. No matter how much Ray wanted it, he could never have it.

During the dessert ‒ which was the best part of the meal ‒ Ray realized Ryan was watching him very intently. Ray swallowed nervously, because he remembered what was supposed to happen after a fancy dinner. Oh yeah, he had _that_ to look forward to.

“Do I have anything on my face or something?” he asked, deliberately licking his lips. Ryan seemed stunned at the movement before bringing his eyes back to Ray’s. They were dark and hungry.

“I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do to you back home,” Ryan practically growled. A shiver worked its way up Ray's spine. If he were anyone else, hearing that from the Vagabond, he'd be shitting himself.

Instead he had to shift awkwardly to relieve the sudden pressure in his pants.

“Do I get to hear the preview?” His voice was low as well, quiet enough that the surrounding tables wouldn't hear. Although, that'd be pretty damn funny.

“Well, there's the small matter of that blow job you owe me.” Ryan leaned forward, predatory gaze focused on Ray. “That'll be the warm up. I've been thinking of getting elaborate for the first time‒” Ray's very excited brain conjured up an image of handcuffs‒ “but I think we'll keep it simple. Plenty of time for more later.”

“Well, you've been teasing me with this shit for weeks, you better make it good.” Ray threatened. He wondered if it was normal for a relationship to take so long to get to the good part, but then he remembered who he was in a relationship with. Nothing was normal about this.

The dinner ended, Ray tried to ignore how convolutedly massive the bill was when Ryan paid for it, and they retrieved his car from the valet. The entire drive back to the house, Ray tried to ramble meaninglessly to fill the silence, but he kept tripping over his words whenever Ryan looked over at him with that dark and hungry look. He was half hard by the time they arrived.

Ray barely had time to kick his vans off before Ryan grabbed him from behind. Ray squawked like Gavin when Ryan picked him up and practically hauled him to the bedroom. Ray could relate though ‒ they'd waited far too long to do this.

“I hope you're ready for this, because I am _done_ waiting around,” Ryan growled when he dumped him on the bed. He ended up falling messily into bed as well, because Ray had a death grip on his clothes. “You know what? Fuck the blow job. Get your pants off, I'm gonna fuck you now.”

“You're such a smooth talker,” Ray joked nervously as he undid his belt. Ryan was stripping frantically above him, and wasn't that a sight to see. All hard muscles and scars for days. He was already hard as well. “You going to give me poetry next? Some fucking rose petals?”

“Maybe I should have you blow me, just so you would _shut up_.” Ray's eyes widened at the bite in Ryan's voice. This wasn't his usual sweet bedpartner. His words had the Vagabond’s edge.

Rather than scare him, it sent a bolt of heat through his body. He liked going slow and sweet as the next guy, but he wanted this roughness. He wanted Ryan to lose control.

God dammit, he wanted this fuck.

As soon as Ray was bare, Ryan's hands were all over him. Brushing over his chest, bumping over his ribs. Ryan followed the hard muscles on his arms (yeah, he lifted) down to his wrists, which he pinned to the pillow over his head. “You keep these here,” Ryan ordered with a forceful squeeze.

“Got it,” Ray murmured as Ryan moved back down his body. His hips were roughly shoved up, and a pillow slid under them. Ryan paused then, taking in the view under him. Ray wanted to cover himself, but at the same time he wanted Ryan back over him. He could guess which would actually happen.

Ryan shook his fringe from his eyes as he reached for his nightstand. “I seriously hope you're ready for this,” he warned as he uncapped their frequently-used tube of lube. Ray nodded enthusiastically as Ryan emptied a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing them to warm the liquid.

“Been ready for ages.” Ryan didn't need to know just how _ready_ he was. Ray may have practiced for this all week, and earlier that afternoon, just to enjoy the widening of Ryan's eyes when the first finger slipped in easily.

Ryan's eyes were bright with realization, but his smile was still sharp. “You're a piece of shit,” he said affectionately, sliding a second finger in. Ray’s rebuttal was stalled when Ryan spread his fingers, causing a very undignified moan to slip from his throat.

“That's why you love me,” he muttered when he got his breathing under control. That was the wrong thing to say, he realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He hated how out-of-place they sounded, out in the air at the wrong moment. They made Ryan pause his prep, looking up at Ray with suddenly serious eyes.

If there was a window nearby, Ray would have jumped out of it in that moment.

After a long moment, Ryan shrugged. “One of them anyway,” he replied. Before Ray could ask what the hell he meant ‒ _was he serious?!_ ‒ Ryan distracted him by grabbing his neglected cock in his slick free hand. When Ray's hips pistoned and he yelped at the feeling, Ryan added another finger, stretching Ray more than he'd ever managed on his own.

“Oh my god, you fucking bastard. Oh my _god!_ ” Ray was babbling in earnest, because the white-hot feelings centered in his groin were spreading, and he felt like he would combust if he didn't get them out. Ryan was a fucking genius with his hands.

Ryan laughed at him as he pulled his hands away. “You're so mouthy. Gives me lots of ideas about what to do about it.

Panting, more worked up than he'd care to admit, Ray glared at Ryan as he rolled on the condom. “If you wanna get kinky, you better start with handcuffs. I'm used to those.”

“Oh I bet you are.” Ryan pushed Ray’s legs up, moving him however he pleased into position. Ray barely had a chance to psych himself up before Ryan was sliding in.

Ray gasped, because _holy shit_ Ryan was a lot bigger than he expected. There was a serious edge of pain when Ryan pulled back and thrust forward, sliding the entire way in. Ray clenched his hands into fists, focusing on keeping them over his head and not trying to push Ryan away. The pain would pass, this was happening no matter what, if Ryan could just stop moving his hips like that for a god damned minute…

Ryan's breath brushed past his ear when Ryan leaned over him, lifting his hips from the bed and taking some of the pressure off. “Deep breaths, Ray.” At least he didn't sound so dangerous now that he was in Ray's ass.

“Yeah, just give me a fucking second,” Ray grit out. But like a good bruise, the pain was fading, mellowing into something more manageable. Something that only added to the experience.

Grinning wickedly, Ray arched his hips back and snapped them forward. He enjoyed the look of startled pleasure that crossed Ryan's face. It was accompanied by the burning pleasure Ray loved, so stretched and full. It was perfect.

“What was that you were saying about fucking me until I can't walk?” Ray encouraged. He got one more thrust in before Ryan pinned his hips down.

“You little _fucker_ ,” Ryan snarled. His hips thrust hard enough to shake the mattress, and his cock hit Ray right where it mattered. Ray wailed, all of the burning pleasure rushing back. He twisted, trying to move his hips, but Ryan held him good, one hand coming up to hold Ray's wrists down.

“Keep still,” Ryan grunted. Through his blurry eyes, Ray could see Ryan's face was flushed and tight, not holding anything back. He was close too, his hips driving like he was trying to make a point. Ray wanted to see him tip over the edge. Since he couldn't use his hips or his hands, he implemented the one thing he had left.

“Keep going Ryan,” he moaned. “Fuck me like you mean it. Make this worth the wait. I wanna be sore for a seek, I want to feel it. I knew you'd be a fucking boss at this, I want you to prove it. Come on.”

That had just the effect Ray was going for. Ryan went wild, his thrusts so quick and powerful Ray could barely catch his breath. He was right there, right at the edge, and Ryan was right there with him.

“ _God damn it,_ ” Ryan groaned, growing tense over Ray. He grit his teeth as he came, only a strained groan escaping. With a few more hard thrusts, his hips finally stilled, still in Ray. His head dropped to Ray's shoulder, panting and trembling.

Ray twisted his hips, sore and in serious need of relief. He was just considering doing it himself, even at the risk of moving his hands from their position, when Ryan seemed to come back to himself. He lifted his head, a big dopey grin on his face, and grabbed Ray's cock in his still-slick hand. It was too sudden, too intense, and Ray came with a strangled shout all over Ryan's hand.

“Well?” Ryan sounded way too pleased with himself, especially right after a seriously mind-blowing fuck. “Was that worth it or what?”

Ray's only answer was a garbled moan. He could hardly get it together enough to finally lower his hands, much less form words. Ryan, meanwhile, was already pulling out, getting up to go to the bathroom. Ray did manage get lift his head enough to admire the view of Ryan's ass.

“I think you've fucking ruined my ass,” he languidly informed Ryan when he returned. It felt like he'd gotten what he asked for, and he stretched, feeling a pleasant ache all over.

“I think I messed up your wrists too,” Ryan nodded at his hands as he sat down beside Ray, wiping his stomach with a washcloth. Ray held his arms in front of his face, eyes widening at the sight of the bruises there.

“Yep, we need handcuffs next time. Nice fluffy pink ones.” Ray wasn't even mad. That was one of the best fucks he'd ever had.

“You serious about that?” Ryan actually looked nervous, which was totally endearing. Ray reached up to grab his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Handcuffs I'm down for, anything else and we need to come up with a safeword,” he teased. Ryan's sigh was relieved and happy, and he settled on the bed next to Ray, pulling him close.

“I think I got close to making you shut up at the end there,” he mused, rubbing his face on top of Ray’s head. Ryan was always so cuddly post-sexytimes. “We'll save that blow job for next time.”

“It's a date,” Ray agreed. He was relieved, basking in the afterglow. The night had been so perfect, they'd got the important shit out of the way, and were finally fucking. Now there'd be nothing but fun times ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this sitting half-finished in my Drive folder for too damn long, but I got blocked real bad. The good news is that the next couple of chapters I've been looking forward to writing literally since I started this series. So maybe I'll get them finished faster.
> 
> Thanks for being patient, and thanks for reading!


	4. Leave Hostage Negotiation to the Professionals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go ahead and play Kill Bill sirens while you read

Ryan's phone rang as he was putting away the last of his groceries. He couldn't stop the small smile that appeared when he saw Ray's face on the screen. Ever since they'd finally gotten fucking out of the way, he felt as though they were much closer. There were still things they didn't talk about, but they didn't need to.

He hoped Ray had called to say he had a new game or something. Their achievement hunting nights were the greatest.“Hey babe,” he said cheerfully when he picked up.

“This ain't your babe.”

Ryan's smile fell off his face in a heartbeat. A cold feeling bloomed in his chest. That wasn't Ray's voice.

“Who is this?” he asked. From the darkest part of his mind came the reminder that this person didn't know him, thought he was a civilian, so he added a fearful tremor to his voice when he asked “where's Ray?”

“Don't you worry about your little boyfriend,” the voice sneered. They were too pleased, too cocky. Cold fury spread through Ryan's body as he turned away from the counter. “He's in our capable hands right now. We're business buddies of his.”

That meant Ray was kidnapped by a rival crew. Possibly being tortured. Ryan moved down the hall to his room like a lion stalking his prey. “What do you want?” His voice was high and tight with fear that he didn't actually feel.

You didn't live in the business as long as he had without picking up a few tricks. For Ryan, lying had always came easily, and a few acting lessons and life-and-death situations had been enough for him to become an expert in faking who he was and how he felt. Let the idiot on the phone think he was a helpless civilian. He'd learn otherwise soon.

The safe at the bottom of his closet needed two hands to open. Ryan put the phone on speaker and muted it, guessing that the gloating fool on the other end wouldn't notice his silence.

“Well, here's the thing. Your ‘babe’ finally learned to shut his trap, and he won't tell us where his boss is at.” The safe read his fingerprint and accepted the code, and Ryan cracked it open. “You, on the other hand, you might be a bit more talkative.”

Ryan unmuted his phone to answer. “Look, I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know anything!” Honest Civilian Ryan would be in a panic, anxiety and worry coloring his tone. The Ryan behind the Vagabond was pulling guns and knives out of the safe, laying them to the side.

“Do you even know what your little boyfriend gets up to when he's not sucking your cock?” The venom in the other man's voice was pointed and direct. Ryan wondered if Ray was in the room with him. He wondered if Ray had purposely directed their attention to him.

His boy was clever like that.

The voice was gloating, spilling Ray’s secrets like he was taking great pleasure from it. Ryan muted the phone again so he wouldn't be heard as he pushed the small safe out of the way. Instead of being bolted to the floor, it sat on top of another safe, set into the floor. One of the highest ranked models, impenetrable and impossible to move. 

Ryan opened that safe, looking at the items inside with regret. He felt bad about lying to Ray, but he had kept them anyway. Just to be prepared.

It was quiet. The voice on the other line had finally stopped rattling on. “You there?” they finally asked.

Ryan picked up the phone again, taking it off mute. “I'm still here.” All the pretend fear was gone from his voice. “So you just want me to be your messenger boy? Let Brownman’s bosses knew he's in trouble, then you and your boys have the chance to mess them up?”

“Got it in one, sugar.” Ryan knew who it was on the other end. He still kept tabs on the happenings in the city, even if Ray didn't talk about it with him. This man was filthy rich and corrupt, and his crew were rivals of the Fakes. Ryan knew all about them, and the exact location of their hideout.

“So what's in it for me?” Ryan's question was met with puzzled silence on the other end, so Ryan clarified. “You haven't said you'll let him go if I do this. You haven't made any threats against me either.” This guy, Ryan guessed, knew nothing about holding someone hostage. He was more of a shady business deals type.

Ryan grabbed an armful of fabric and weapons from the floor. The thug on the phone was spluttering, threats finally spilling out, about how he'd cut Ray’s dick off and mail it to him and other horrible things. Ryan was reasonably sure the idiot didn't know where he lived, but just to be safe he got Edgar's carrier from the closet.

“You don't have a fucking clue who I am, do you?” he finally blurted out angrily. His rage was burning a hole in his chest, coupled with worry for Ray. His frustration and disgust was boiling over. He was tired of the posturing, tired of pretending to be the helpless ordinary civilian. He'd given it a good try, but enough was enough. It was time to let it go.

“I know exactly who you are! You're some idiot who fell in with the wrong twink, and now-

“Wrong.” Ryan angrily snapped. “You don't know me. You don't know the first damn thing about me. If you knew who I was you wouldn't have ever called me, _Donnie_.” He snarled the last word down the phone, and was pleased to hear a fearful intake of breath.

“How‒?”

“You made a mistake, and you're going to pay with your life.” Ryan promised. “Don't bother running. I'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth. There won't be anything left of you when I'm done.” Ryan angrily hung up. Let Don Alfonso wonder if he was serious or not. He'd find out soon enough.

Ryan whistled to Edgar, who came immediately. For all that the cat was a haughty lord if his own, he knew how to come when called. Ryan tucked him into the carrier, despite his protests. The carrier, plus the weapons, were placed in the car.

Pulling a bulletproof vest over his shirt, Ryan looked around the house with regret. Civilian life hadn't been that bad. Boring as fuck, when he didn't have Ray around, but nice enough. He hoped he could come back to get his stuff when this was done.

Over the bulletproof vest went his jacket, the blue and black leather that a million criminals feared. It still fit, even after months of dormancy. The mask was stuffed into his pocket. For now.

He did feel bad about lying to Ray, and letting him think the one they destroyed to fake his death was the last. But honestly, he should have known better. Ryan still had dozens stashed in safe houses across Los Santos. He hadn't given it all up completely.

The Vagabond may have been killed, but Ryan had survived. And he needed to remind the city why it should fear him. That they should never, ever, fuck with him.

Or the one he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short, but that means you get updates faster, right? Right.


	5. What to do When the Contingency Plan Fails

Ray kept his eyes closed, hunched over in the chair he was chained to. The sound of gunshots rang out less frequently than they had before, when they'd practically roared constantly. Whoever was out there was cleaning up the stragglers.

He tried to focus on breathing without hurting his ribs. Blood dripped off his nose from the cut over his eye, but he wasn't in any position to wipe it. He didn't bother struggling, it just made the pain in his hands hurt more. The guard with the key had left when the first shots fired, and he was probably dead now too.

Ray hoped, with every part of his mind, that it was just his crew. He hoped his boyfriend had actually called them like Don Alfonso had asked. Ryan shouldn't be drawn back into this mess when they'd gone through so much to get him out. Not over something like Ray getting his stupid ass kidnapped.

He wasn't worth it. That was the truth Ray had always known. Ryan kept making exceptions for him, treated him like he was special when he wasn't at all. He was just some lowly sniper who was always too dumb to run and get out when he had the chance. And now he'd paid for it.

It was finally quiet. Ray waited. Somewhere in the darkness of the room, he knew a camera had its unblinking eye on him. Don Alfonso liked to record his victims. He'd probably been getting off watching Ray getting the shit beat out of him when his rescue had shown up.

The door clicked open. Gritting his teeth, Ray raised his head. The Vagabond that was framed in the door, his face unreadable under the mask. He was covered in blood.

“You shouldn't be here,” Ray said softly. He couldn't say anything else.

Not saying a word, the Vagabond stepped over to him. The keys to Ray's shackles were produced from a pocket, and his battered wrists and ankles were freed. The Vagabond pulled him into his arms, gently holding him in a bridal carry. Ray’s arms wrapped automatically around his neck.

“The camera,” he whispered in his ear. The Vagabond shook his head.

“Doesn't matter,” he said gruffly. He pressed a handgun into Ray's battered hand, and cautiously carried him from the room. Swallowing down his panic, Ray watched over their shoulders as the Vagabond walked freely down the halls. He stepped over too many bodies to count. The former mob boss was nothing more than a smear of blood in a suit.

This wasn't the first time the Vagabond had razed a gang single-handedly. Hell, it was what he was known for. Everyone knew the story of how his first crew had left him for dead, and the Vagabond had returned and killed every single one of them. And he did it again, many times, every time a crew had turned on him or thought they could bring him down.

Ray had thought it was a story, another lie made up about the mercenary. But it seemed the Vagabond deserved the reputation.

It was dark outside. Ray was right in his guess that he was taken out of the city. Los Santos glittered in the distance, bleaching the sky an ugly orange color. Somewhere in that mess was his crew, frantically looking for him. How was he going to explain this?

The Vagabond buckled him into the front seat of a car that was definitely not his. Ray managed to keep quiet all the way to the highway, but the sick feeling in his chest finally made its way out. 

“What the fuck?”

He couldn't say anything else because he felt like he was going to throw up. The last time he'd felt this way it was after the heist where Ryan learned he was the Brownman. It was a mix of horrible fear and dread, and the knowledge that the best thing in his life had gone wrong.

He wasn't scared of the Vagabond or Ryan any more, but he still felt horrible. Or maybe it was the cracked ribs. This was the end of Ryan's peaceful life, and it was all Ray's fault.

The Vagabond sighed and pulled off his mask. Ryan glanced at him, lingering over the bruises and marks on Ray's face. “What was I supposed to do, Ray?” he asked softly. “No one fucks with you like that.”

“But what about the tape? There were cameras all over the damn place. Everyone knows your style; even if you killed everyone, it's gonna get out that you're back!” Ray wanted to reach over and shake Ryan, but everything hurt too much. Why couldn't Ryan see that everything was fucked now?

“It doesn't matter‒”

“Of course it fucking does! If the Vagabond’s back then you can't be a civilian anymore. I thought you wanted out?”

“That got old.” Ryan shot Ray a look when he started to say something. “Ray, listen to me. Remember that thing you do where you overthink and imagine things worse than they are?”

“Well I'm fucking right this time!” Ray snapped. “Unless…” Ray trailed off, thinking of the other times this had happened. Ryan had always been chill when Ray had been jumping to conclusions. Ray's eyes drifted to the mask. Ryan had shoved it into the cupholder to get it out of the way. Ryan had said the one he destroyed was the last, but…he'd lied.

“You wanted to come back?” Ray guessed.

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed softly. “Not like this though. I'm sorry I used you to help me fake my death, and it didn't even last that long. But I couldn't stay away.”

“Temporary retirement,” Ray muttered. The dread in his chest was shifting, opening the way for other emotions. Frustration, mostly, but also something like hope.

“If I really wanted out I would have killed you the first time you broke into my house.” Ryan was deliberately avoiding his gaze. “I would never have slept with you. But I did, and I liked it. So what if the civilian thing didn't work out? I always knew there was a chance it wouldn't. And I'm kinda glad it didn't, cause it was boring as fuck. I'm fine with it.” 

"Are you really?" Ray was fairly certain he was, but he needed to hear the assurance. He didn't really want to admit it, but getting snatched and fucked up had shaken him to the core. He hurt, and he was scared. He wanted to feel safe again, with Ryan or his crew. The perfect little life he had with Ryan was over, but he still needed his friend.

“You still lied to me about the mask.” Ray poked at it with the hand that hadn't been crushed under someone's heel. Ryan nodded regretfully.

“I know, and I feel like shit about it.” Ryan waited until the road straightened out to offer his pinky finger to Ray. “I swear on my life that I'll never lie to you about that again. You don't deserve that.”

Ray mulled it over, wondering if he could even get his fingers to cooperate at all. Ryan was a liar, but that's just who he was. He never would have lived this long if he hadn't.

He believed Ryan when he said he'd tell the truth from now on. There was nothing really left to lie about. He already knew Ryan was a criminal and a murderer. His past was still a mystery, but Ray never needed to know it. There was just last thing.

“Swear on your name.” His request should have felt more important, like it should have more weight to it, but Ryan's laugh was too relieved and the seriousness washed away when Ryan looped his finger around Ray's.

“I, James Ryan Haywood-” Ray started chuckling immediately. “Shut up. I, James Ryan Haywood, swear I will never lie to you again. And you know I'm telling the truth because I would never make up a name as lame as that.”

“That is the worst name for a criminal,” Ray agreed between chuckles that hurt his ribs. The most dangerous man in the city had the most generic white bread name and Ray knew it. He loved it.

“Now I really do owe you a save-your-life blowjob.” he pointed out. Ryan's grin turned into a grimace.

“Let's get you fixed up first.” Ryan pulled into a parking garage at the edge of the city. They stayed quiet until Ryan pulled up next to his shitty soccer mom van. 

“So what happens now?” Ray asked. Ryan turned to look at him fully, scowling at Ray's injuries. 

“That's up to you. We could run off to the mountains and be gay lumberjacks together. I have Edgar in the other car so I could split right now with no problem. Or we can just go back to my place to clean you up. Or your place. Whatever you want.”

“Are you gonna take jobs again?” A really dangerous and stupid idea was whispering in Ray's brain. It had been there for a while, but now it was growing.

“I'm not sure. I don't really care or need to take any more jobs. The civilian life was nice for having a place to hide, but I've lived without it before.”

“Would you ever want to be in a crew again?” 

Ryan's face was blank with shock before it split into the biggest shit-eating grin. His laugh was maniacal and loud in the small car.

“Yes. Oh my god Ray, if your boss lets me, I'll join your crew. I swear I won't ever try to kill any of them either.

“You say that now, just wait til Gavin gets on your nerves.” It would never work. The Vagabond had his reputation, and their crew was so messed up and loud and they'd never want to trust him.

But Ray knew Ryan, and he knew his crew. They'd never turn their back on one of their own, and he believed Ryan wouldn't turn on them in turn.

“Look, this whole thing has been weird and fucked up, but I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” Ryan chuckled at Ray's words. “And that's my crew. We're a fucking mess and we're always in each other’s space. I mean, we all live together.” If anything was going to be the deal-breaker, it would be that.

“As long as no one's allergic to cats, it's fine. Cause I'm not giving up Edgar.” Ryan's tone was joking, but his eyes were serious. “Your crew is a family. I've never really had that before. But I'm willing to try.”

Ray took a deep breath, straining his ribs. Everything hurt. He didn't even want to look at his busted hand. Home would have all the supplies he needed. He wanted to go home.

“Let's go back to the penthouse,” he offered. Hopefully Geoff would be so happy to see him alive that he wouldn't kill him for bringing the Vagabond home.

Ryan was all smiles as he loaded Ray and the guns into his own van. Edgar yowled the whole time, clearly unhappy with confinement.

“You're gonna love the penthouse,” Ray assured him between the carrier’s bars. He just hoped Ryan would like it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP in peace Don Alfonso


	6. The Appropriate Time To Pick a Fight With Your New Boss Is Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the comments on the last chapter, y'all've been looking forward to Ryan's reveal to Geoff.  
> So have I guys. So have I.

“Good God.” That's all Ryan could get out as he took in the giant room. Giant windows, giant TV system, giant couch that looked so much more comfortable that his shitty couch. Ramsey clearly didn't skimp on the furnishings.

He was also impressed by the security system and safeguards the Fakes had in their building. Ray had needed to scan both his finger and eyeball, and punch in about six different passwords, just to get them into the elevator.

“Bathroom’s that way.” Ray pointed a bloody finger down the hall. Ryan frowned at the sight. It was a good thing whoever had broken Ray's hand was already dead. Otherwise Ryan would do awful things to them in retaliation. He had no doubt that whoever had battered Ray's hands had tried to ensure he'd never shoot again.

It wasn't a bathroom, it was a god damn spa. Ryan had clearly not spent enough time with gang bosses to ever reach this level of luxury. If the rest of the penthouse was thus lush there was no way Ryan was ever leaving.

At least it wasn't all spotless and cold like a shiny magazine picture. There were traces of makeup on the counter, toothpaste flecks on the mirror. The whole apartment reflected the fact that a half-dozen criminals spent a lot of time there.

It was a relief to see those small signs of life. It reminded Ryan that this wasn't just a crew ‒ it was Ray’s family. Ray trusted Ryan with them, so Ryan had to return the favor and trust that they weren't going to fuck him in the ass like every other crew had. That was going to be harder than anything else.

Edgar's whines echoed off the porcelain as he begged to be let loose. “Okay, you're free now! Go explore,” Ryan urged him when he let his cat out. Edgar bolted, no doubt to go claw that expensive couch.

Ray's laughter made him turn back. Ray was seated on the bathtub, just like he'd been when he'd come to Ryan with a stab wound. But this was far worse. Ray looked like he'd been put through a meat grinder. Despite his chuckle, Ray’s eyes were unfocused and his face worryingly blank. Ryan knew how he felt ‒ he'd gotten the shit beaten out of him before too.

Ryan looked under the sink, glad that Ramsey kept a well-stocked first aid kit there, like every other self-respecting criminal. He pulled off his jacket and pulled on some gloves. Ray mentioned before that they had a nurse they could call, but Ryan could make do for now.

Ray stayed quiet as Ryan began cleaning the cuts on his face. Ryan didn't offer him pain meds, not after the last time he did and Ray went all loopy. Even though Ray had to be in serious pain, he kept quiet. That worried Ryan ‒ where was his usual snarkiness? He carefully wrapped his ribs after gently feeling for breaks. It looked like Ray wouldn't need surgery for them. His hands, however…

Ryan had to fight down a snarl as he cleaned them off. They were a mess. Bloody and swollen, the knuckles were split and a few fingernails were missing. Ryan tried to be gentle as he set up the splints, but when he looked up, he saw tears running down Ray's face.

“Hey, babe, don't‒” Ryan reached up and gently cradled Rays face. “It's going to be okay. Okay? You'll heal, you'll get better. You're still going to be able to shoot, you'll see. It'll be fine.”

“I'm not worried about that,” Ray sniffed. “I'm just bummed I can't play video games for a while. I'm fine.” Ryan knew a lie when he heard one. He pressed a kiss to Ray's forehead, trying to comfort him. 

“I...don't know how to help,” he confessed. “I'm not good at this shit. But whatever you need, I'll do it, okay? I'm here for you.”

Ray sniffed. “That helps. Having you here helps.” Ray leaned forward to rest his forehead on Ryan's chest. Ryan wrapped his arms around him in return, angling his gloved hands so he wouldn't get blood on Ray. “Thanks for coming for me, and sticking around. It's stupid, but I feel safer when you're around.”

Ryan's heart swelled. This dumb kid knew exactly what to say to make him love him more. “Well, I'd say, considering you're fucking the most dangerous man in the city, there really isn't anything else for you to be scared of.” 

Ray’s laugh was muffled by his shirt, but Ryan was still glad to hear it.

His phone buzzing in his Vagabond jacket pulled Ryan's attention away. He peeled off a glove to pull it out. A number he didn't recognize waited for him on the screen. 

“Who is this?” he snapped when he answered. He was getting real damn sick of mysterious phone calls.

“Ryan? It's Ramsey. Ray’s boss.”

“Ramsey,” Ryan repeated. Ray's eyebrows shot up. “How did you get this number?”

“That's not important.” _Oh yes it is,_ Ryan wanted to say, but Ramsey continued on. “Listen, have you heard anything from Ray?”

“I got a call from someone on his phone earlier.” Ryan didn't mention that Ray was literally sitting in front of him. He was still a little pissed, and he felt like messing with his new boss a bit. This seemed like as good a time as any to introduce the Vagabond. “Has something happened to him?”

“Uuuh, yeah. Some other crew got hold of him, and uh…” Ramsey groaned. “Someone else showed up. It's...it's not good.”

“What happened?” Ryan asked, stringing him along. He put his phone on speaker, gesturing to Ray to keep quiet. If the massive shit-eating grin on his face was any indication, Ray was fully supporting him fucking with their boss.

“Listen, Ryan...what do you know about the Vagabond?” Ryan's eyes rolled so far back in his head he nearly blacked out. Ray was nearly eating his hand trying to keep quiet. It was too perfect. 

Ryan let his voice go ice-cold when he replied. “Well, I know he's about six-two, 192 pounds, used to be a natural brunette but has been mostly blonde for the last couple years, used to do lots of theater production in college, was one of the nastiest fuckers in the criminal world, and got got by your boy here. And now he's currently wondering how you got this god damn phone number, Ramsey.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end, before the call abruptly ended. Ryan joined Ray howling in laughter. Ray was doubled over holding his ribs.

“Oh my god,” Ray gasped. “I wish I could've seen his face. Holy shit.”

“I do feel bad,” Ryan admitted. “But not really. How the hell did he get my number?”

“It was probably Gav. The Golden Boy,” Ray guessed. Ryan nodded, remembering how nosy he'd been when Ryan was stitching him up. “But seriously, Geoff's gonna be pissed when he figures it out.”

“Well, I'm not saying he didn't deserve it. He should’ve really made sure it was me on the phone. Common criminal safety mistake.” Ray's snarky reply was interrupted by the phone ringing again with the same number. Ryan shot a quick grin to Ray before answering and putting it on speaker.

“Listen to me you sack of shit.” Ramsey snarled right off the bat. Ryan was slightly shocked at the fierceness in his voice. “I don't know what you did to Ryan, but you better not have done a god damned thing to Ray. You hear? I'm gonna rip you apart with my bare hands, you fucker. You don't fuck with my boy. You don't fuck with my crew, and you don't fuck with me. I'm gonna make you regret ever putting on that goddamn mask.”

“Wow, do I feel threatened,” Ryan said sarcastically, cutting him off. He dropped the Vagabond act fully when he continued. “But your concern is very touching. Ray's fine, Ramsey. Seriously, he's right here.”

“Hi Geoff!” Ray brightly called out. Ryan heard Ramsey's next comment taper off.

“Ray?” he asked after a moment of silence. “Are you okay buddy?”

“Uh, no, I got the shit beat out of me, man. Remember that?” Ray deadpanned.

“Where are you?” 

“We're back at the penthouse.” Ramsey's strangled “WHAAAT?” made Ryan snort. Subtlety really wasn't Ramsey's strong suite. “Geoff, please. Ryan got me fixed up, it's cool.”

“Bu… wha... what about the fucking Vagabond?!” Ramsey screeched.

“I'm right here, Ramsey.” Ryan answered. The giddy look on Ray's face cheered him immensely. This was going well.

“Are you fucking kidding? Ryan, you better be kidding me. You're not the fucking Vagabond. You can't say shit like that. You better be fucking joking.” Ramsey sounded desperate, like he didn't want to believe it.

“It's not a joke, Geoff. I am the Vagabond,” Ryan said as as seriously as possible.

“Can confirm,” Ray added. 

Ramsey was silent. Ryan shared a knowing look with Ray. It was a lot to take in.

“Listen, Geoff, just bring everyone home and we'll explain.”

“Like fucking _hell_ I'm bringing the crew there! Are you shitting me Ray?” Ramsey sounded overly offended by the suggestion.

“Geoff, for fuck’s sake, Ryan could have fucked us up ages ago. He's cool. I promise. I swear on my fucking rifle or something. Come on, just get your asses home.” Ray snapped. Ramsey seemed shocked by the intensity coming from the younger man. Ryan felt the same.

It took a long time for Ramsey to finally answer. “You better be fucking right. Or I'll kill you both.” Ramsey hung up before they could answer. Ray rolled his eyes.

“He's such a fucking drama queen.”

“He's looking after his crew. I respect that.” Ryan threw a handful of bloody gauze in the trash. “So, how best to put his mind at ease when he gets here?” He hoped Ray had a good suggestion. The nervousness was settling in his bones and putting him on edge. He wasn't worried about the likely arguments about his legitimacy or trustworthiness, and the inevitable guns pointed at him.

He just wasn't looking forward to meeting new people. They were going to be his new crew, but he wouldn't have his mask this time to hide behind. If all went well, he'd probably be living with these people. And he wasn't exactly good at being a reasonable human being, even around people who were also bad at being reasonable humans.

At least he had Ray. For Ray, he'd do anything. Including being social and non-stabby. It was a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be one chapter going to the end, but it was too long. And because I hate myself I have to change that half-written chapter to Ray's POV. I shit you not this is the second time I've had to do this to a fic in the last week.


	7. Greetings and Welcome to Your New Life

Easily, the most surreal thing Ray had ever seen was Ryan, wearing his Vagabond jacket, black paint around his eyes, sitting on his couch playing Kirby.

He looked so out of place, but only because Ray hadn't been able to convince him to leave off the jacket. No one did professional while in the penthouse ‒ anything more formal than pajamas was odd. In fact, Ray had insisted on changing, even if it hurt his ribs to get into his oldest comfiest hoodie. 

Ray knew they needed to be as casual as possible, because Geoff was pissed already. He didn't think his boss would shoot his boyfriend right away, but only because it was a really expensive couch. Staying chill, acting as if everything was totally fine, was the way to go. Even the Vagabond was less threatening in pajamas.

It still took some convincing, but eventually Ryan put on the plaid pajama pants Ray had nicked from him a few weeks ago. But he refused to let the jacket go. Said he felt better wearing it.

Ray just wanted to be comfortable. He wanted Ryan cuddling him on the couch, so that's what happened. Ray's back was to Ryan's front, and it kinda hurt his ribs, but it was worth it to feel Ryan's arms around him as they played. It made him feel a lot better, even considering the ass-beating he was currently getting as Kirby. And the ass-beating he'd gotten IRL.

There was nothing more non-threatening than a pink ball and pastel landscapes. The Wii-mote hurt his hands and fingers, but he still gave it his best shot. As a bonus, it made his character clumsy, so Ryan's had to keep kissing him to get his health back.

Facing the TV meant facing away from the door, so Ray didn't see when it opened and finally admitted the crew. He didn't need to see their faces to know they were worried and probably covered in guns.

He did hear Edgar though, who ran up to Geoff, yowling for attention.

“You brought your fucking cat?” he snapped, unmoved by Edgar's charms.

“The situation was fluid,” Ryan answered easily. “I didn't have a plan when I went to go rescue Ray, so I prepared for the worst. Which meant I had to bring Edgar and leave him somewhere public in case I didn't get back.” Ray was surprised to hear that. He hadn't really thought about why Ryan had brought Edgar.

Geoff stepped around the couch so he could see their faces. He had a handgun held loosely in his fist, and there were probably more being held by the rest of the crew. It was quiet except for the background music from their game, and Mica’s coos at Edgar.

Geoff looked exhausted, more than he usually did. His tired eyes roamed over Ryan's face, over the black paint still ringing his eyes, and the blue leather jacket. He glanced only briefly at Ray. He could see the relief there, but also concern and anger. Of course.

“Vagabond.” Geoff nodded at him with a glare.

“Ramsey,” Ryan answered back.

“Kirby!” Ray squeaked in a bad impression. That drew Geoff's attention back to him.

“Jesus, Ray, you're a mess.”

“Yeah, you should probably get Caleb to come take a look at me.” Ray shifted uncomfortably against Ryan, flexing his fingers against the controls. “It's hard to play with broken fingers.”

“Don't use that as an excuse,” Ryan teased. That earned him an elbow to the ribs and the return of Geoff's glare.

“How the fuck are you the Vagabond?” Geoff snapped. “That doesn't make any fucking sense. Even if I believed it was your generic white bread ass, how are you still here? Ray killed you, but then your dumb ass shows up to save him?”

“I wanted a break. It was the easiest way out. I wasn't kidding earlier about theater production ‒ I do know how to take my death. Wasn't even the first time.” Ryan shrugged, not sounding offended at all. Ray, however, could feel the tension in his body.

“Then why the hell did you keep hanging around Ray? What the fuck is going on with you two?” 

“We're fuckbuddies, you know that.” Ryan's answer was too much for Geoff, who groaned and lurched back, burying his face in his hands. “I was fully aware of the complications that brought to my plan, but I didn't care. Still don't. No one fucks with Ray like that.”

Ray sat up with difficulty. “You knew I was serious about him, Geoff, that's why I let you guys meet him. Believe me, I know how dumb this whole thing is. But Ryan hasn't hurt anyone in months. Remember how he helped fix up Gav and Mica? Seriously, man, he didn't kill me when I broke into his house, and he didn't kill me when he figured out I was the Brownman. That's something, right?”

“You broke into his house?” Ray looked over the back of the couch at Lindsay, who was standing behind a very protective Michael. She was trying to keep a stern face, but Ray could see a smile trying to take over. Gavin and Mica looked stunned, probably amazed that they'd gotten so close to the Vagabond unscathed. Jack was stoic, but Jeremy, the little nerd, looked absolutely delighted. He always hero-worshiped the wrong criminals.

“Yeah, I was kinda lost.” Ray shrugged it off. “Look, guys, I wouldn't have done all this shit if I didn't trust him. He got me out from Don Alfonso's, remember?”

“And clearly I'm exhibiting a lot of trust and control by sitting here calmly while you're interrogating me.” Ryan shot a pointed look at the golden gun in Gavin's hands. “Really, Ramsey, are you just miffed that you didn't figure it out earlier? I'm a pretty good actor, it's nothing to be ashamed of‒”

“I'm pissed,” Geoff pointedly cut him off, “because a known crew-killer is sitting in my living room and has apparently been banging my sniper this whole time, and I'm not done with that either‒” Geoff jabbed an accusing finger at Ray “-what the hell was going through your mind when you hopped in bed with him, you lunatic?”

There was a good answer to that question, or the smart-ass one. Ray went with the latter. “I was thinking his ass was incredible.”

That appeared to be the final straw for Geoff. His face turned red and his mustache bristled. Ray braced himself for the yelling when the Lindsay suddenly spoke up.

“Geoff, just chill.” Lindsay stepped around Michael, in full Lady-Boss mode. “Ryan, or the Vagabond or whatever ‒ he's right. He's had all kinds of opportunities to get in here and fuck shit up earlier, and he didn't. I don't think this is some kind of long-con, that's not his style. So basically it's two idiots who fell in bed together while being really dangerous criminals, and it's worked somehow. Right?”

Ryan and Ray glanced at each other, and shrugged at the same time. “Basically yeah,” Ryan agreed.

“Linds, you know I wouldn't have done anything to endanger the crew. I trust him.” That was the truth, at the heart of everything. Despite all their shit, Ryan had never done anything to hurt or betray Ray.

“Okay, so what is this then? This, here, happening now?” Lindsay asked. “That's what I don't get. If you're supposed to be dead and taking a break, why did you go rescue Ray? You know it got out immediately that the Vagabond was the one who fucked up Don Alphonso’s guys? You're actually trending on Twitter right now.”

“I am fucking not!” Ryan gasped in disbelief while Ray burst out laughing.

“Oh my god! I need to see that. Give me your phone!” Ray scrambled at Ryan's pocket while Lindsay rolled her eyes at exasperated Geoff.

“Does that look like a terrible killer to you? Come on, Geoff, he's legit.”

“This is _bullshit!_ ” Geoff howled as Ray opened the app. When he logged into his own account he saw that Lindsay was right ‒ #vagabondisback was all over his feed. Los Santos did not disappoint. “We can't trust him just because he's banging Ray! What if they break up? For fuck’s sake, if he's back on the market, what if someone hires him to off us? He'd know exactly how to get us!”

“Is now the best time to ask if you have any openings in your crew?” Ryan asked with an innocent grin.

His words triggered the best reactions from the crew that Ray had ever seen. Everyone began shouting at once, trying to make their opinions heard. Geoff and Lindsay began arguing at once, quickly joined by Jack. The rest of the OG Team Lads converged on the couch, Michael swearing furiously at them while Gavin tried to pull him off. Jeremy and Mica were laughing and shouting in the background.

“I knew you'd fit in,” Ray said happily. Ryan tightened his arms in agreement.

“Everybody shut up!” Lindsay yelled, repeating it several times when Geoff and Gavin failed to do so. “Okay,” she started when they finally all calmed down, “you want to join the crew. Seriously?”

“Of course,” Ryan agreed. “I'm back in the game now, so why not? I'm sure you'd prefer that, rather than me being a freelancer again.”

“Yeah, we'd much rather have a fucking murderer in our midst. Why the fuck not?” Geoff said sarcastically.

Ryan shook his head, suddenly looking very tired. “Look, you have good reason not to trust me. We all know I've fucked over gangs before. But only because they've fucked me first.” His tone was dead serious as he looked Geoff in the eye. “I've seen no evidence that this crew has ever turned on a member. _You know_ how rare that is. This life is so hard to go at alone. I just want to be able to trust that whoever has my back isn't gonna stab it.”

Geoff seemed properly silenced. Ray rubbed Ryan's knuckles, feeling somehow protective. Ryan's life had been shit ‒ he just wanted something nice for him for a change. And if that meant welcoming him into the crew, Ray would welcome him with open arms.

“So it's a good professional decision, you have to admit.” Ryan shrugged off the sudden seriousness as easily as he shrugged off his jacket. “On a personal standpoint, since I have no intention of not banging Ray in the immediate future, you might as well let me move in already. And it might as well be here than my shit house in the suburbs.”

“Presumptuous, aren't you?” Jack snarked. But Ray could see a grin in her eyes.

“Okay, look. I'm down for it, but you gotta be legit about it. If you're in the crew, you gotta be _in_ the crew, okay?” Lindsay looked similarly dead serious, but sounded positive. “Like, you can't just be here for Ray, all right? If we're out on a job you have to be able to look out for all of us. In this crew it's ride or die together, get it?”

“Got it,” Ryan agreed.

“Okay. Then everyone who wants Ryan in, raise your hand.” Ray’s hand shot up immediately, followed by Jeremy and Mica (who tried in vain to hold Edgar's paw up). Gavin was next, and Jack, surprisingly. Lindsay put her’s up, and so did Michael after she nudged him. His glare said he wasn't happy about it.

Geoff, whose arms remained stubbornly folded, gaped at his crew. “This is _bullshit_!” he howled.

“The crew has spoken Geoff.” Lindsay sounded thrilled. She smiled at Ryan, who had half-raised his own hand. “Welcome to the Fakes.”

“Glad to be here,” Ryan said happily. Abruptly he grabbed Ray's chin and pulled his head back for a kiss. Ray returned it eagerly, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

“Oh, no. Nope, knock it off.” Jack's no-nonsense words made them separate. “If this is happening, there need to be rules. And Rule One is no PDA in the common areas.”

“Oh come on,” Ray whined.

“Look, if Michael and I aren't allowed to make out in public neither are you,” Lindsay agreed. “That's just asking for trouble. We'll come up with a reason you joined, but it shouldn't be because you're banging.”

“Can he at least sleep in my room?” Ray's questioned seemed to be the final straw for Geoff. He sighed and trudged over to the bar with a defeated look.

“First you got to see Caleb,” Jack ordered. “And I suppose we should make garage space for you. And get the cat’s litter box set up…” Jack trailed off, on her phone already texting Caleb.

The drama over, the rest of the crew was dispersing, to go put their weapons away and change. Michael seemed reluctant to leave Lindsay's side, still treating Ryan with a scornful glare. Ray would have to chew him out later.

“That...went better than expected,” Ryan sighed, sounding relieved.

“Yep, you're legit now.” Ray settled back in his arms, a giddy smile on his face. Or maybe it was just the endorphins making him light-headed. “I'm glad you're here now.”

“Me too.” After a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, Ryan pressed a quick kiss to the top of Ray's head.

Ray couldn't believe it had really worked out. He went from breaking in and almost getting killed, and now Ryan was cuddling him on the couch, and soon they'd be able to go to bed together, legitimately.

It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the end? Or will there be a Part 3, featuring wacky crew shenanigans, Ryan earning the crew's trust, and disgustingly domestic fluff?  
> I think you know the answer to that.  
> Thank you everyone who's read, kudos’ed, and commented. You're all amazing.


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